The Hero Behind the Mask
by BlackBloodRose64
Summary: Stiles Stilinski is more than just another student at Beacon Hills High School. He is more than just a regular kid. To one person he is a hero behind a mask. Stiles/oc
1. Chapter 1

He wasn't always like this. So funny and care free that is. He use to be wounded. A teary eyed boy in the crowed. But, for as funny and care free as he is, I know it's a mask. I've heard his screams at night. I've heard his pain filled sobs as he wakes from his night terrors night after night. I've seen the way he looks at his father. Eyes wide lip bitten as if it was the last time he would see the man. I've seen him at his best…and worse. With looks of pain painted across the canvas called his face. The abuse he goes through at the hands of his "friends".

But he doesn't care. And that is the hardest thing I have seen.

That someone as strong, as funny, as caring, as hero-inspiring as Stiles Stilinkski will stand to be abused for a second of recognition. For a millisecond of gratefulness from so called "friends". "Friends" that say they are there for him! That say they love him! But if that is true, where are they? Where are they when hes hurt? When hes crying? When he sits in an empty graveyard every Sunday at 4:30am because he misses his mothers loving hugs and caring words. Where are they when he needs them more than he needs the deafening silence of his empty house?

It is abuse of the worst kind. It is unintentional. It is careless. It is taking someone for granted that would die for you.

Stiles Stilinski is more than a friend. He is a hurt boy looking for a way out. He is a hero fighting for his life against kryptonite that just so happens to be lying in the ground wherever he takes a step. He is a fighter! Trying to find justice in a world that is corrupt and unfair. And he never stops.

That's what makes Stiles Stilinski all these things. That is what makes Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski. Because he could've ended it. He could've popped the pills I see him stare at in his hand every night. The pills that hold the power to end the pain. The pills that mock him, taunting him with temptation as if saying, "you're not worth it! No one would care! Do it! End your life! Theres no reason for you to be alive anyways!"

But he never takes them. He fights back. Because even though hes suffered, even though he is in pain, even though there are days he would rather not wake, he puts his mask on and keeps going.

He walks through the kryptonite like a true hero. He stays standing when all he wants to do is collapse. He keeps fighting even when the odds are against him.

And that's why I watch. Because I can see behind the mask. I can see the pain as it flits across his face day in and day out. I can see the internal struggle to keep breathing.

But I can also see the courage. I can see the strength behind the teary eyed boy. I can see the fight in his eyes, the determination set in his jaw. And maybe that's why I watch. Maybe that's why I observe. Because I know I don't have that. I know that I don't have the fight. I don't have the determination. All I have are the broken pieces of myself that I try to desperately put back together but always seem to fall back apart. Stiles Stilinski isn't just a hero. He is my hero. He is the one that I watch put the pills down every night as I echo his hand. As I put my own relief back into a small orange bottle that might as well read death.

He is his own rock. But he is also mine. And for that I am thankful. Because if it were not for his night terrors, his pain, his tears, his fight. I would be just like his mother. Buried 6 feet under. But I wouldn't have a son to visit me. I wouldn't have friends or family or loved ones bring flowers to my lifeless body. I would have nothing but a wooden box and a mask. Because though Stiles Stilinski hides behind a mask, he lets that mask crack.

He wears it thin and takes it off on rare occasions to give others a glance at what pain is. He takes it off to let others help him.

You see, I have a mask too. But mine is iron. Unbreaking and heavy. Weighing me down with the mistakes of my life. But every time the teary eyed boy in the crowd takes off that mask it gives me hope. It lightens the load of my own mask and shines some light in the darkness that is my heart.

So I will keep watching. I will continue to observe from a far. Because in those moments when that teary eyed boy drops his mask is when hope lightens mine. That is why my hero is the teary eyed boy that sits one desk up and two desks over at this exact moment. That is why my hero is Stile Stilinski.

I read over the essay with calculating eyes knowing this piece of paper meant more to me than a grade. The shrill bell rang overhead as all the students filtered out of the room handing our English teach their essays. I looked at mine with a knowing glance. No one could read this. No one could enter my life in such a personal way as this. I crumpled the paper shoving it in my backpack the only words visible are the few that make up the dreaded question at the top. The words our teacher thought were good as an ice breaker assignment. The words spelling out the least yet most complicated question. **Who is your hero? And why?**

I skittered out of the room. Face down hood up. My backpack weighing on my shoulders. I felt a body push into mine my backpack falling, papers being thrown everywhere. I quickly grabbed my bag not meeting the stranger's eyes and hurrying away. Little did I know that the random body was my hero. And in his hands held a single paper with the question, **Who is your hero? And why?**

_A/N: I do not own Teen Wolf or any of the characters. I only own my oc. Please tell me what you think. Only a one-shot for now but if y'all want a full story tell me in the comments! Love y'all and happy reading 3_


	2. Chapter 2

~Stiles Stilinski~

I knew it was wrong. An invasion of privacy. If this mystery girl couldn't turn it into the teacher who was I to read it? But my twitching fingers and flickering eyes just became too curious. I uncrumpled the paper in the silence of the library, getting an intense glare from the old hag of the librarian.

Do hags exist? I'll have to ask Derek. I wonder what they-. Focus Stiles. Paper, hand, reading…Right! The paper.

I hesitated a moment until finally my curiosity got the best of me. My eyes darted across the words. Once, twice, three times… Tilting back in the chair I let out a long breathe.

Who would see me like this? This wasn't true. I'm not a hero. Yet this mystery girl seemed to think I was superman reincarnated. I don't know what to think. I don't know how to feel. There was one thing I knew. I had to find this girl.

~Charlie~

As the final bell rang I hurried out of the school. Making my way to my old beat up truck I sped out of the parking lot. When I finally got home I checked for any cars. My dad wasn't home, I was safe. I ran up the stairs locking my door in the process and throwing my bag on my bed. Quickly emptying it, I looked for my essay. It wasn't there.

I panicked. This cant be happening. I grabbed it! Where could it be?! No, no, no, no, no! Oh my god…what if that stranger had it? What if it gets out at school? Ill be the laughing stock for the rest of my high school life. Always to be known as that creepy stalker girl. Shit! This cant be happening!

I punched the wall sliding down until I was curled up on the floor against it. How could I be so stupid?

A door slammed outside and my tears stilled. I stayed silent hoping it was just the neighbors, but I was never that lucky. I don't know how much time passed until I heard the front door slam and heavy footsteps slam on the stairs.

"Charlie get your ass out here!" I stayed quiet hoping he would think I was out for a walk or something.

"I know you're in there Charlie, now get your fucking ass out here and make some fucking dinner!" I stumbled out panic filling my body.

"H-hi Dad."

"Don't you 'hi dad' me. We're out of fucking beer and I don't see dinner ready! Why don't you stop being a lazy ass and actually do something for once!"

"Yes Sir." I ducked my head walking into the kitchen and threw a freezer meal in the oven. I scrambled out of the house grabbing my keys next. The owners of the gas station knew me, and my family, well enough not to question when I went to pick up beer and Jack for my dad.

I pulled into the station, my poor truck squealing with every turn. As I parked I noticed a familiar black Camaro stopped at one of the pumps. I knew that car…how did I know that car?

I shook off the odd remembrance and walked inside. The door chimed with my entry and the old clerk gave me a knowing look. I bowed my head in shame. I knew this wasn't right. How could my father expect this of me? How long could a young teen suffer like this before snapping? How could I stand these looks of pity for three more years?

Sadly, I didn't know any of the answers.

As I was rung up I glanced out the window seeing another car pull up. Three men walked over to the Camaro seemingly having a nice conversation with the driver. I collected my bags and walked out towards my truck. As I was securing the bags a loud crash filled my ears. Startled, I looked over. The Camaro's front windshield was smashed in and all the men stood as if smashing a car was a normal occurrence.

I ran over yelling, "Hey! What was that for?!"

A cold voice answered, "Stay out of our business kid."

"Excuse me, but I'm pretty sure any business that includes smashing cars is not welcomed here."

A man, maybe in his early 30's gave me a calculating look. "Let's go boys." They got in the large van driving away.

Camaro dude finally turned toward me. "You shouldn't have done that."

"A thank you would be nic-," the words died on my tongue. "Derek?" His cold blue eyes widened a fraction studying me.

"Charlie?" He walked closer as if wondering if I was actually there.

"Oh my god…Derek!" He pulled me into a hug, but all I could do was flinch away.

He let out a low growl. "What did he do Charlie?"

"Please Derek, not tonight."

"I thought you were dead."

"I thought you hated me." A sad look flashed through his eyes.

"I could never hate my little Charlie." This time I initiated the hug. I pulled him close a small sob escaping my body. "Shh Charlie. Its ok. Im here now." I stayed in his arms for a little longer until I finally pulled away.

"I have to go, my dad hes waiting…" I looked down a small tear escaped my red puffy eyes.

"Don't take his abuse Charlie bug."

"There isn't much I can do about it Der-Bear."

"Stay safe."

"I will."

I walked back to my truck hurrying inside. I sped out of the parking lot and back to my personal hell.

_A/N: So I do not own Teen Wolf I only own Charlie. I decided to keep writing and hopefully y'all like it. So Charlie and Derek know each other and obviously have some kind of past but that's all I will say for now. Please review and tell me what you think! __ 3_


	3. Chapter 3

~Next Morning~

As I walked into school sporting a new bruise all I could think of was at least it was better here than at home. My large hoody covered my face from the wandering eyes of my classmates as I slowly limped to my locker.

The night before hadn't been easy. When I got home from the gas station my father had told me that I took too long and then continued to beat me unconscious. This time seemed different though. I could tell Derek was out there, trying to protect me, but knowing there was nothing he could do.

Derek and I had a complicated relationship. He had been my older brother's best friend and soon took over the role of a second brother to myself. But one night my father took a beating too far. As I woke up the next morning it was to the wailing of sirens and cops telling me my brother had been killed from being mugged on the way home. I knew the truth though and so did Derek, but the cops would never be told of the truth.

After his death Derek took me under his wing telling me he had promised my brother that he would take care of me. I was thankful for Derek's support. I was a wreck after the death but Derek pulled me through and soon became the big brother I had lost. Eventually, Derek told me the Hale secret. Not gonna lie, at first, I thought he was insane. But he had showed me his wolf and to be honest, it made us even closer. It showed me that even though I was just some normal, annoying, broken kid someone out there still loved me enough to trust me with a secret.

But all good things come to an end. Years later Derek's house burnt down along with most of his family in it. I was supposed to be in it as well, but I had stayed at the library instead of going home with Momma Hale. Her smile was the last thing I saw of her. Derek left town soon after thinking everyone except his sister and uncle were dead. I wasn't going to stop him. Wasn't going to tell him I was alive. Because part of me always believed that maybe if I had just gone with Momma Hale I could've stopped the fire. Maybe I could've saved the family that took me in when I had nothing.

A shrill bell broke me from my memories and I quickly gathered my books and closed my locker. I rushed into English class a slight flush creeping up my face as I sat in my regular spot.

"Ms. Ravenwood, nice of you to join us."

"Sorry Mrs. Dites won't happen again."

"I certainly hope not. Now as I was saying, today we will be…" She droned on for another 10 minutes telling us our next writing assignment before I let my curiosity get the best of me and tried to hear what Scott and Stiles were whispering about.

"I'm telling you Scott it had to be from this class!"

"Stiles I believe you but who wrote it?"

"I don't know that's what I'm trying to figure out." I could feel the color drain from my face. He had it. Stiles Stilinski had read my paper about him being my hero. If he found out that was me who had written it I will never live it down. I turned towards them slightly trying to listen to what else they were saying.

"So what do you think about Derek?" Scott whispered.

" I don't think we can trust him man. I mean come on! You get bitten by some 'alpha' and Derek claims it's not him! But, it gets better; he doesn't know whom the alpha is! Its just too much of a coincidence."

Alpha? Bitten? Derek? Wait…Scott couldn't be. It would explain so much though…Oh my God there was another werewolf in Beacon Hills. My day just went from bad to worse. Dear God this is gonna get ugly.

_A/N: Sorry it so short life is hectic right now. I promise a longer chapter soon! Please review and tell me what you think! Love y'all!_


	4. Chapter 4

All I could do was panic. This couldn't be happening! I mean I knew there were werewolves but Scott McCall, really? Not that he was a bad kid, but really? I kept trying to figure out who the alpha could be but no names would come to mind. I was so lost in my thought that the bell rang and still I sat there scribbling nonsense on a piece of paper with possible alphas.

I didn't look up until a shadow appeared over my paper and shifting myself saw that it was Stiles. Just having him so close I was near a panic attack.

"Charlie right?" He gave me a sincere look as if talking to a small child.

"Uhm…Ya I'm Charlotte. I mean Charlie! I mean my name is Charlotte but most people call me Charlie. Well not most people. Most people don't talk to me and…" he looked at me with amusement in his eyes," …and I'll just be shutting up now."

He let out a tinkling laugh that let loose butterflies in my stomach. "That's some interesting stuff on your paper."

"Ya I'm doing a research paper in science on wolves?" I tried desperately to sound like I was stating a fact but sadly it came out as a question.

" Well good luck with that. I should go," he said while glancing at the door.

"Right uhm bye."

"Bye." As he walked out the room I couldn't help but get lost in my thoughts. Had that really just happened? Had I really just held a conversation with Stiles Stilinski. I let out a sigh and went to walk to my next class when my phone gave a shrill ring.

"Hello?" I answered picking up the small phone with a confused look.

"Where are you, you little slut?"

"I'm at school, Dad. "

"Well get your ass home!"

"Dad I can't just leave!"

" If you're not home in the next 5 minutes you'll wish you were never born!"

With those parting words he hung up. The sad part? I already wished I was never born. I walked out to the parking lot and stepped into my old beat up truck. I would never be home in 5 minutes and I knew with each passing minute I was late the worse I was going to get it.

10 minutes later I pulled into the driveway cringing at the shattering noise that had just come from the house. I walked in yelling out to my father I was home.

All I remember was screaming and pain. No words were intelligible. Nothing standing out. I laid on the ground in a ball trying to protect myself but it was just a vain attempt. The only thought running through my mind was, how had this gotten so out of hand? How did my life turn into this Hell? Tears streamed down my face creating more pain as the kicks came faster for showing weakness.

I wanted my mom. I wanted my brother. I wanted Derek and Stiles! But like the kicks I was receiving a thought was slapped in my face. Why would they be here? Why would they care? All I am is a broken child, a child too damaged and worn to be loved. I deserved this pain. I deserved every kick, every bruise, every open wound because what else was I good for?

I had no friends. No one that would ask how I was come morning. I was alone in this world and maybe I finally just needed to face the fact that no one cared about little Charlotte Ravenwood.

The kicks stopped and silence weighed heavy as the door slammed and my fathers car pulled away. I stayed on the floor not finding the strength to move. At that point I wasn't sure I had the strength to live.

I curled up tighter wishing it would all go away. Sobs wracked my body and screams were yelled at all the people who had left me. How dare they? How dare they leave me with this monster? How dare they leave me with this horrible life! The sobs kept coming. My body ached, my head pounding like a hammer hitting my brain on repeat.

I finally pulled myself up letting out a pained gasp as I tried to move. I hated my life. I hated myself. But as I looked at the sharp knife my dad hid I couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't kill myself. I couldn't take my own life knowing there was so many people out there that had it worse and continued to live.

So I prayed. I didn't know if there was a God. I didn't know what good this would do. But I had no options. I kneeled down in front of the cross engraved with both my mothers and brothers names. And spoke my heart.

"If there is anyone up there please save me. Please give me a sign that this will get better! Im begging God please just give me hope that I can wake up in the morning and not think this could be my last living day. Tell my mom and brother that I love them and that I miss them. Tell the Hales that they left behind an amazing son who misses them dearly. Please God just help me survive."

I let out a sob collapsing on the ground. The only thing running through my mind in the deafening silence, please just help me survive.


End file.
